(the assignment was to write a poem about a painting. i picked this one by manolo millares. it's not strictly a painting; he stuck torn burlap to it and did some other stuff. it's titled "sarcophagus of philip II".)you liked the way
that white chalk outline looked
the day you died
(smiled and pointed) so
they put one around
your coffin
you would shiver
every morning underneath
your flannel quilt
(young boy's toes curled up) so
they put a quilt around
your coffin
but things were angry, you see,
and that chalk line (it was smeared)
(i hope you won't mind)
and they ripped away your quilt
slashed it to tatters wrapped around
your coffin
and things were violent, you see,
so their knives (big and black)
(they threw them in with you)
and they chewed up their tobacco
spit it (thin and black) all over
your coffin
in your afterlife you are
a martyr so i will give
your coffin
a new name
and it will be fit for a king
(a boy king)
dear philip,
lying in your ugly,
battered,
filthy
defiled
sarcophagus
3 comments:
A. the only thing it had to do with the importance of being earnest is that oscar wilde died of syphilis.
it was meant to be somewhat more disturbing than it apparently came off as. which is probably a good thing.
B. I am a fan of this philip thing. it reminds me of my book, which is filled with dead egyptian guys.
so today i was at the library and saw a book called "giants in the earth" and thought of you.
also, your poem makes me want to go to a museum and stare at Art. can we?
I love your parentheses. And the rest.
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